The Worth of Loyalty
by sonsofforgottenkings
Summary: As world around her slowly begins to crumble beneath the impending doom of Oblivion, Sidri, a thief with no love for the Divines nor the trappings of fate, finds herself aiding those who would fight back against the will of Mehrunes Dagon. However, when the key to overcoming the Daedric Prince lies with an old friend, Sidri must decide her destiny as an age draws to an end.
1. Chapter 1

_ It's always the same dream. A girl, her hair flaming copper beneath the afternoon sun, throwing stones in a stream. She sits in the shade of a tree, tattered boots kicked aside to allow her toes to dig into the rich earth. It's a quiet day, a good day, and she rolls her eyes when sudden shouting breaks her peace. Standing up, she doesn't bother to brush her dirtied dress off, looking towards the road. _

_ "Stop it!" A boy protests, jumping up to try and snatch something out of a taunting hand above his head. "My father bought that for me! Stop!"_

_ An older boy, freckled and gawky, laughs. His friend aside him nudges him with an elbow, then shoves the pleading lad. She watches, tilting her head slightly. She hasn't seen them before, but then again she hasn't been her very long. She doesn't miss the orphanage in Skingrad. It's prettier here, more open. Sometimes, if she tries her hardest, she can imagine the mountains again, can feel the chill of the northern winds on her skin._

_ "Stop it!" _

_The girl draws closer now, interrupting. She looks up at the teasing boy, gray-green eyes meeting his own. "You shouldn't take things from other people. It isn't polite." The fighting stops._

"_Who the-?" The stockier of the two blinks, the taller still holding the toy above the younger boy's head. "Piss off!"_

_The girl simply blinks and repeats herself. The boy sends a confused glance towards her, his brown eyes wide with confusion and suspicion. "No! He was too stupid to lose it, so it's finder's keepers." _

"_I didn't lose it!" The boy shouts angrily, jumping once again in a failed attempt to reach it. "You stole it!"_

"_Then you should have kept a closer eye on it!" There's a shove and the girl glares, watching the boy tumble back into the dusty road. A moment later, the bully tumbles over himself, clutching his stomach. The other turns, startled by the sudden cry of his friend, only to receive a swift blow to the jaw. The boy simply watches, lip bleeding and eyes wide, as the girl with the flaming hair scares them off. A minute later, the two are gone, sprinting down the road in humiliation, leaving them alone._

_The girl picks the toy up and brushes it off. It's a simple thing, costing no more than a few septims, but she sees the boy's tattered clothes and understands it must mean much to him. She hands it out to him and he stares for a minute, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes. "Here. It isn't broken. You needn't worry," She offers and he accepts it a moment later._

"_Why did you do that?" He questions, slowly rising and brushing himself off. _

_She shrugs, "It was yours." The boy gives her a funny look and she smiles a bit. "You should be more careful."_

"_Thank you," He replies after a pause, glancing down and tracing a thumb over the curves of the wooden ship. "I don't think they'll bother me again, not after what you did."_

"_You should learn to fight," She replies simply, her wild hair gleaming as she pushes it over her shoulder. "No one will bother you then."_

"_What's your name?"_

"_Sidri." _

"_Do you live in town? I haven't seen you before."_

"_You didn't tell me your name. It's rude to ask a name without giving your own."_

_The boy blinks, looking down at the hand suddenly extended towards him. The girl smiles as he timidly shakes it. He's different from the other boys at the orphanage and the ones who make fun of her when she walks through the street, quieter, smarter. She can see it in his eyes. "Martin." He replied with a nod, "My name is Martin."_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her eyes opened instantly. Gasping for breath, she sat upright, shaking and soaked with her own sweat despite the chill of the cell. Her trembling fingers pulled her damp hair away from her eyes and behind her ears, her heart racing inside her slender chest. Sidri took a great, deep breath and worked to calm herself, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. It hadn't been an unpleasant dream, if anything it should have been one comforting, but all the same she rose and began to pace to clear herself of it.

"What have we here? Such pale skin and bright hair, hm, surely a Nord, but all the way in the Imperial City?" A leering voice called out to her from across the hall and she turned. "My my, you're certainly far from home, aren't you?" Sidri rolled her eyes, electing to ignore the fellow prisoner. He continued, "Heard you panting over there. Having some nightmares? Need a bit of _company _to drive those dark dreams away while you sleep?" She remained silent, bristling with anger and embarrassment that her night terrors had caused her to be loud enough that she could be heard in the cell over. "You're never going home," The man continued to taunt, his face obscured by the shifting torchlight, "You're going to die in here. You'll never-"

"Have you a name?" She interrupted suddenly, voice soft in its honesty.

The man was caught off guard by that, but replied snarkly, "Why? You want to-"

Sidri waved a hand nonchalantly, stepping closer to the bars to allow him to see her shrug. "No, it'll just be easier to give the Dark Brotherhood a name than a description once I'm let out of here."

He went silent at that and she turned, running a hand once more than her bright locks. It was an empty threat but it had worked all the same, shutting the Dunmer up. It infuriated her, having to be here in the first place, locked away in some dank cell with the rest of the scum of the Imperial City. Sidri was a fine thief, an excellent one if she was allowed her pride, and she fancied herself far above the average pickpocket. She had never been caught before, not since since moving here, and it had been naught but absurdly poor luck that had been responsible for her arrest. It should have been been a simple job and even Armand had emphasized how easy it would be for a burglar of her caliber. Simply sneak into a house and take the journal of some merchant thought to be overselling his wares; a quick job, more practice than anything.

However, as she had emerged from the house in the dead of night, cowl drawn over her face and journal tucked firmly beneath her arm, Sidri found she had not been alone in the street. She had memorized the patterns of the guards walking the street, knew intricately where they would be and where they would not at any given time of the night, but somehow she had all but walked into Hieronymous Lex. She had tried her best to flee, but upon rounding a corner she had sprinted straight into another guard, one that shouldn't have been, had no _reason _to be there.

Thrilled that he had caught one of the Guild he so despised, Sidri had been all but flung into her cell three days ago. Certain that her brethren in the Guild would be unable to get her out of prison, try as they might, Sidri had absently paced between the damp stone walls, determined to keep herself from thinking of the noose that might be waiting at the end of all this.

She glanced up as she heard voices once more, voice different from the guards that had done their rounds up and down the hall for the past few days. Tilting her head, Sidri was able to make out talk of someone's sons, their possible deaths. A brow perked in interest and she listened closely, striving to hear more, then froze suddenly as she heard 'Sire." Two guards, dressed in armor finer than she had ever seen, suddenly rounded the corner and she blinked in absolute disbelief as she met the gaze of the older man with them.

He smiled at her reassuringly, even as the guards leading him ordered her to back away and stand at the end of the cell, seemingly furious she was there at all. His robes were breathtakingly regal, gilded in colors and fabrics that cost more than the sum of all she had stolen, a golden chain shimmering in the torchlight around his neck. She knew instantly who he was. There was very little that surprised Sidri, for much had she seen, but not ever had she expected this. "Stand back, prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you!" The guard's harsh bark woke her from her stupor and she obeyed, retreating to the back of the cell without another word.

The guards and the lord made their way into the cell. Sidri swallowed hard, still in all but a state of disbelief, lowering her head to keep as low a profile as possible. "You," A deep voice called out softly, "I've seen you." She kept her gaze trained on the floor. "Let me see your face."

She looked up as the emperor took an assured step towards her, head tilting in curiosity. His pale eyes widened briefly as he saw her face, wild hair tumbling over her shoulders. "You're the one from my dreams." Sidri blinked at that, but he continued all the same, more to himself than to her. "Then the stars were right. Today is the day." A pause. "Gods give me strength."

Sidri finally managed to stammer something out, her gaze quickly falling to the sharpened blades at the sides of the guards. "I…I don't…What's going on?"

"Assassins attacked my sons," Uriel Septim replied, "And I'm next." His voice was so calm it seemed eerie to her. Her eyes widened further, a trembling hand brushing her hair back from her face as he gestured towards the guards. "My blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance," He nodded once, white locks nearly obscuring his pale eyes, "the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."

Sidri choked out a laugh, earning her a glance from the blades, as they had been called. "I…I mean no offense, sir-_sire_, but I think there's been a misunderstanding." She was by no means humble, but she was a thief and for that she deeply valued the tangible and the logical. "I don't think we've met, I would have remembered if we had, and I don't think you can dream of thieves with a face as common as any of the streets. If you wish me move to a cell over, gladly will I-"

"It does not matter why you are here," The Emperor replied softly, "Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done," He shrugged, his guards continuing to examine the damp stone of the cell way, "It does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

Sidri shook her eyes, eyes wide and heart pounding at this point in her confusion. "No, I…I'll go to the next cell over. I don't belong here, I shouldn't be here at all, I-"

"None of us belong where we think we do," He replied with something like a smile tugging in the corners of his lips, deep voice ringing out through the chamber, "But what path can be avoided whose path is fixed by the almighty Gods?"

Before she could reply, one of the guards approached him once more. "Sire, sire please, we must keep moving." Her voice was urgent now. Sidri jumped back as part of the wall slid away, revealing a dark tunnel who's end she could not make up. Uriel Septim moved past her without another word, robes bright against the grey and brown of the tunnel before him.

"Looks like this is your lucky day," One of the guards barked at her, "Just stay out of our way."

Another minute and they were gone, disappeared into the darkness of the escape route. Sidri stared after them, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. She had never been one to place too much faith in the Divines, after all they had done little for her, and rarely did she believe in fate save the whims of Lady Luck, but this…this was almost too much for even her to ignore. The Emperor himself had looked her in the face, had told her that he dreamt of _her, _with her copper hair and bold eyes and fingers calloused from lockpicking. This cell, of all the ones in Cyrodiil, had been the one both he and his guards had needed.

But this? All this was too much to ignore.

Running a shaking hand through her messied hair, Sidri took a slow, deep breath and stepped into the darkness of the tunnel.


	2. Chapter 2

Sidri blinked a few times, her gaze adjusting to the darkness of the tunnel. She took a cautious step forward, watching as the guards rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Whatever lay at the end of that tunnel was safety and safety meant escape. Surely no one would notice her missing in the time it would take for her to flee to the Waterfront, given all that had happened. Seemingly Uriel Septim himself was altogether uncaring of what she did.

She shook her head, running her tongue over her lower lip and continued down the tunnel. A few steps later, she turned the corner and stepped into a large room, seemingly unused for years. Cobwebs hung in thick ropes from the stone pillars and dust gathered between the stone tiles lining the floor. It was as silent as a tomb save for the clink of metal boots.

Crouching downwards slightly to make as little noise as possible, Sidri made her way through a crumbling archway, catching sight of the guards on the other side. It was too tight in here, the air too dry and the ceiling too low for her comfort. Fighting back claustrophobia, she began to move down a long hallway, keeping a close eye on the movements of the emperor and his Blades, for so he had called them, ahead. All was going well enough, the emperor ushered onwards while she anxiously followed from behind, when electricity crackled through the air and over her skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. Sidri instantly recognized it as magic.

A cry rang through the chamber and her eyes widened as a figure appeared before her, clad in crimson robes. Metal eyes stared at her from behind a mask unlike anything she'd ever seen, it's features sharp, feral and contorted, and she barely managed to avoid the blade that sliced through the air towards her a moment later. Leaping backwards, she saw more of the figures fighting the guards, catching a brief glimpse of the emperor keeping away from the fray from the corner of her eye. The sword arced down towards her once more and she sidestepped the swing, kicking out instinctively. Her boot caught the assassin's hip and he lost his weight, stumbling backwards. One of the Blades appeared beside her then, driving his blade through the figure's chest with a furious cry. The assassin let out a choked shriek of pain, the mask turning downwards as he looked to the steel piercing his torso. A moment later and he fell limply to the floor, blood as dark as his robes staining the ancient tiles surrounding him.

It had been quick, the skirmish, but all the same Sidri found herself shaking furiously. Gasping for breath, altogether aware of how close she had come to dying, she brushed her hair once more behind her ears and forced herself to remain calm. Her gaze traveled around the room slowly. Blood stained the pale floor, seeping from the wounds of both guards and assassins alike as they lay unmoving. One of the Blades sighed heavily, leaning downwards towards one of the slain guards. A woman, Sidri noticed.

"Captain Renault?" Uriel Septim asked softly, through from his tone of voice Sidri expected he knew what the answer to his unspoken question once.

"Dead," replied the guard, bitter anger tinting his words. He stood upright, glancing over his shoulder as he looked coldly towards her. "You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us."

She was silent at that, still working to catch her breath. Uriel Septim's calm gaze fell upon her once more and she looked towards him without thinking, his pale eyes looking into her own. Uneager to continue their connection, she looked downwards and carefully withdrew the slain captain's sword from her bloodstained hand. She had never been one for swords. Daggers were preferable, arrows ideal, but it would do until she could escape. This was a different sort of blade, curved and more regal than any she had armed herself with before, but it was comfortable all the same. Gripping her fingers tightly around the helt, she glanced up to the see the Emperor and his remaining guards continue onwards.

Once they were out of sight, Sidri began to creep forward once more, now desperate to find a route of escape and leave this nightmare behind. No one back at the Waterfront would believe her, she snorted darkly to her, glaring and stabbing a skeever as it snipped at her from the corner of the room, and in truth, looking back, she doubted she would believe it either. A crumbling hole appeared in the wall and after a moment's pause, she sighed and stepped through it, hoping it would lead to any sort of exit.

Creeping around for a few minutes, she managed to procur a few lockpicks and a bit of gold that had been scattered through the earthen room, shining faintly through the cobwebs and the dust. Unfortunately, it seemed a few skeevers were not altogether pleased to be sharing their home with her and Sidri killed them off as quickly as she could. They appeared from the shadows, just at the corner of her vision, and with each death came a quick sigh of relief. Their teeth and mouths and claws harbored all sorts of diseases, ones she had no desire to obtain through a bite or scratch.

She grinned broadly when she found a bow and several arrows, testing the bowstring carefully by pulling it back with two practiced fingers. It was aged but it worked well enough. Slinging it and the arrows over her back, she continued onwards in good spirits. Seemingly whatever luck had brought her thus far was favoring her once again.

However, the aged tunnels continued onwards for longer than she had expected and she found herself quickly growing anxious to find their end. Stolen blade at the ready, she kept herself on guard, flinching and preparing herself at whatever noise interrupted the otherwise deathly silence of the tunnels. After what seemed like hours, she saw a patch of light far ahead and all but sprinted towards it. Stepping out from the tunnel into the stone corridor once more, she breathed a great sigh of relief and took pause to glance down at herself. Her boots and trousers were stained with both blood and dirt, a patch of cobwebs stuck to her slender hip. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair and brushed herself off though it made no change.

Sidri fell silent once more as she heard the voices of the guards up ahead, speaking about protecting the Emperor. It sounded a bit like arguing as another voice picked up and she stepped forward carefully, watching them proceed further from the ledge above. She dropped down a moment later, feet hitting the floor with only a soft thud as she crouched down. Her eyes widened as she felt the crackle of magic in the air once more, a cry echoing through the ancient halls as more of the masked assassins appeared, their blades glittering in the pale light.

She caught sight of once running towards Uriel Septim, no doubt his target, and without thinking she rushed forward. With a snarl, she deflected the mage's blow only a few inches from the emperor's head, then parried another thrust and cut downwards sharply with the curved sword. It cut into the assassin's thigh and he howled with pain, allowing her to drive all of her weight behind yet another attack. The steel drove into his chest and through his back, dark blood spilling out over her hands and onto the floor as he fell backwards. Still in partial shock, her heart beating so furiously it seemed she could hear nothing but the rhythm pounding in her chest.

The emperor, his own blade drawn at this point, gave a small nod from beside her. She could see the curiosity flickering in his gaze. "Dammit!," growled a Blade and she drew in a small gasp as a stained blade was held beneath her throat, the lethal edge just a hair's breadth from drawing blood. "It's that prisoner!"

A guard stepped before her, his armor marked with soot and blood, and stared down the length of his sword at her. "It's that prisoner again." He glanced very swiftly over his shoulder to the remaining Blade.

"Kill her." The other said quickly, nodding. "She could be working with those assassins."

Her eyes widened further and she opened her mouth to protest, but Uriel Septim stepped forward almost casually. Placing a hand on the blade at her throat, he gently pushed it away to the guard's confusion. "No. No, she is not working with them. She can help us." He looked towards her now, a faint smile appearing in the corners of his mouth. "She must help us."

Sidri was silent at that, choosing to not to speak until the blade had been lowered a moment later, warily. Sighing with relief, she flinched as the emperor's weathered hand gently rested against her forearm, nudging her close as he addressed her and her alone. "They cannot understand why I trust you," He said softly, "They have not seen what I've seen." The guards cast a dark look towards her, then moved away, their swords still drawn. "How can I explain?" Uriel Septim paused with a sigh, "Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

"I'm in prison," She replied bluntly, "I'm not exactly on good terms with the Nine, though I know of them."

If he was bothered by her reply, he made no mention of it. "I've served the Nine all my days and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks," The old man's voice took on a reflective, almost fond edge, "Each a fire and every one a sign. The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

Sidri was once more startled by the peace with which he spoke of such. She had brushed shoulders with death more than once and each time had fought it with all her strength. No, she took no comfort in thinking of her inevitable fate nor content in peaceably going to it. "What about me?" She replied after a moment, still unsure of what all the aged emperor spoke of and how she seemed in fit into the puzzle that had been crafted by the Nine.

"Your stars are not mine." Uriel Septim replied gently. "Today your stars, what sign you were born under, shall prove a stalwart companion when fortune fades."

Today? "So…so you can see my fate?" She questioned, beginning to walk in stride with him now as the guards led the way.

He laughed softly at that, shaking his head. "My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face," His pale eyes searched her features once more, "I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

She stared at him for a long moment, utterly silent. He must be crazy, she decided, a noble mind decaying from years of service to the Empire and the people of Cyrodiil. It was tragic, in a way, but she could mourn the loss of his sanity when she was free and back once more beneath the bright sunlight. "Where are we going?" Sidri decided that the safest way to respond.

"I am going to my grave," came his simple answer, "A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part." He turned then and continued walking down the corridor, his silver hair flickering as the torchlight fell over it.

"You might as well make yourself useful." A voice interrupted the brief silence and she found herself face to face with one of the Blades. He was younger than her, startlingly young, and the signs of youth were still present in his features. He held out another torch to her. "Carry this and stick close."

She grasped the torch, careful to keep it away from her messied hair, and followed silently. They turned down another tight hall and made their way into a wide room laced with cobwebs. "Hold up," The other guard raised a hand, taking a slow step forward. "I don't like this." Her free hand moved to the hilt of her borrowed blade once again, eyes scanning the dark corners of the room.

"Dammit!" Sidri flinched as the guard cursed loudly, his voice echoing off the cracked tile, "This door is locked!" And so it was. Up ahead she could see a grate covering yet another hall way, too thick to be cut away or pushed off by force, "The gate has been barred from the other side. It's a trap!"

"What about that side passage?" The other stated quickly, tilting his chin towards the opposite end of the corridor.

"Worth a try! Let's hurry!"

Sidri could hear the urgency in their voices now, what initial calmness had been present when first the emperor had appeared in her cell gone without a trace. She jogged to keep pace with them, torch all but dead.

"It's a dead end," The guard sighed heavily as he scanned the tiny space they found themselves in, "What's your call, sir?"

"Wait here with the Emperor," The other guard nodded to her suddenly, drawing his own blade as the other rushed away, "Guard him with your _life._"

She nodded quickly, more than aware of how trapped they currently were. These were true assassins, the masked men who had come to end the life of the Emperor, more than just some member of the Dark Brotherhood. She was a decent enough fighter, had held her own against more than most, but this…this was too much, even for the fury contained in her Nordic blood. Something cool was then pressed into her hand and she recoiled as she glanced down.

There, held to her palm by the aged fingers of Uriel Septim, was the bright amulet that had been around his neck only a moment earlier. It glittered pure crimson in the torchlight, the gold chain bright against the pale grey of the tunnel. "I can go no further," The emperor said softly, his gaze meeting her terrified own, "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his Mortal Servants." She tried to press the necklace back towards him but he refused, his hands gentle but firm against her own. "He _must not_ have the Amulet of Kings."

He's going to die, Sidri realized then, recognizing the finality in his voice and casting off what doubts she had held about his words and the prophecies he spoke of, of the mysteries of the stars and the lines of fate that marked their steps. "Take this Amulet," Uriel Septim continued with a faint hint of a smile. Amera recognized it as peace. "Take it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son."

She opened her mouth to object, feeling the great weight of the amulet in her slender hand, but he silenced her with a small shake of his head. "Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." He smiled one last time at her and closed his eyes.

A moment later, part of the stone wall behind him moved away and one of the assassins stepped forward from the darkness, his blade arcing through the air as she screamed and threw herself forward. Uriel Septim let out a small sigh and slumped to the ground, a choked sob escaping her throat as she watched him fall off the bright steel that pierced through his back and through his chest.

"You picked the wrong day to take up the cause of the Septims, stranger." The assassin hissed at her, his sullied blade striking towards her. She was quicker, however, in her rage and in her terror, and the torch dropped from her hand on the floor as she parried back. With a snarl, she deflected another blow and cut into the assassin's chest, blindly stabbing until he was completely unmoving.

Unable to breathe, unable to think, Sidri moved over to the Emperor, desperate to find any signs of life. However, he was utterly still, his blood pooling from his chest onto the floor and mixing with that of the man who had slain him. And there, she raised a trembling hand before her face, gripped with white knuckles into her palm, remained the Amulet of Kings.


End file.
